


Holy Shit, that's Percy fucking Jackson

by Help_Me_Im_Bored (ZerKawmi)



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: 20 minute or less, Gen, I Don't Know What the Hell I'm Doing, Original Character(s), Reincarnation, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, Shit, Stream of Consciousness, This is going to be a Stream of Consciousness type of thing, Timed Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:26:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26851408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZerKawmi/pseuds/Help_Me_Im_Bored
Summary: Life was normal, maybe the odd run of the mill realistic-looking cyclops cosplayer on the run, but nothing I hadn't seen before.Until mother fucking piece of shit Percy Jackson came in.What the fuck.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	Holy Shit, that's Percy fucking Jackson

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry for I don't know, easily impressionable underage children because these chronicles are obviously directed to a younger audience, but I'm just a 17-year-old who's computer died in the middle of an assignment due within 1 hour. 
> 
> I'm so sorry
> 
> If you enjoyed reading, I'm happy and all, but I'm so sorry for the swearing.
> 
> I was an easily impressionable 10-year-old too, so please forgive me Mini-Me.

The overwhelming heat made my body burn and tingle, and it almost felt like everything was nauseous and shipping sail to vomit land. My head pained and screamed with the tight rubber band that held it up.

"Jesus Motherfucking Christ, give me strength cause I feel like I'm going to fucking die." I groaned and tightened my hold over my stomach, crouching, and violently tipping over to fall over the fresh-cut grass. I whined and moaned in pain, wondering if puking my guts out would really benefit me in the long run.

No, it fucking won't.

Eyes watery, mouth salty, and body shivering, I curled up into the shape of a ball and murmured curses at the skies and whatever deities I could think of.

It has been 13 years since I began reliving a second life in the horror movie called, Life. It's interesting to relive a new life as a tan, black-haired, jittery, self-reliant girl in the bustling life of New York City, compared to my past life as a Hispanic, clumsy, anxiety-driven college student. Unfortunately, I'm assuming I died in my mid 20's and nearly at the end of reaching the end of the college experience since memories of how my resurrection came to be are quite gone, nonexistent, poof disappeared. 

However, my studious tendencies did travel back to me, quite difficult however with the jumbling of words, Dyslexia, I'm guessing, purely self-diagnosed so no reliability on that. As well as my new inability to stay fucking focused. The few times of hyperfocus I do get, I end up going at it for hours on end, which awesome because I finish a week's worth of homework within a whole day and night combined.

I do love me some 24/7 studying.

However, I had a Jame's Special at a McDonald's ripoff, and lovely mother of god, that piece of shit probably poisoned it with the feeling of death all over me.

All in all, I fell asleep, in pain, eyes closed, shivering, hiccuping, and grumbling in the midst of Central Park.

* * *

"Hey, wake up. You were being dragged by a pair of creeps and I _really_ need you to wake up. Like, right now." A hushed and strained voice whispered near my ear. Flinching away from the stranger, because that exactly who it was, and because _I'm not in the fucking park._ The surroundings were concrete, cold, slimy, gross, and overall a nose-killer. The acidic foretelling gave me enough time to turn my head towards the source of the voice and release it without shame.

Because fuck you, I am not going to get fucked over for a tiny mistake like _falling asleep in public._

The groan of disgust and sound of gagging was enough to speed my way out of wherever the hell we were hiding. Then came the pressure on my arm and suddenly I felt like I was flying without the rollercoaster safety straps, and fell back with a strangled gasp.

The clasping of a hand on my mouth had my stomach sinking and heart spiking with anxiety, then there was a low, dog-like, growling sound, yet louder and harsher. As if it had recently chewed through some bones while smoking them with charcoal and going off for a year-long smoke break. 

There was a stillness in the air where the sound of sniffing and crackling trash signified the ever-shortening distance between us and whatever the hell That was.

It was sliced with the resounding sound of a pen clicking and the swoosh of a knife being sharpened at inhuman speed, and suddenly there was a light in the now notable darkness. 

There was a dog right in front of me.

_A dog the size of a fucking truck. Teeth as long as my torso, and black, smooth, dark black glistening hair._

And let us not forget the goat legs.

The goat legs on both sides of my fallen body.

_Holy shit I'm at a slaughterhouse._

"Mrs. O'Leary, you found Grover!" A boy yelled, his voice muffled with the surging panic of death, and then the voice behind me had the _audacity_ to be relieved. Like, holy shit man _do you not see the huge fucking best right in front of us that could eat me whole in two bites?_

"Percy! Thank the gods, please get me out of here." Grover, nice to put a name to the stranger, I guess but _what the fuck the goat legs moved._ The overwhelming feelings of panic, frustration, fear, and anger tipped over and I screamed, grabbing a hold of the brown furry legs _that are warm and meeting eyes with the Beast._

"HolyshitI'mgoingtodieHolyshitHolyshitHolyshit--"

"HEY!" The Beast was gone and in its place was a tanned boy who filled out a ridiculous blue Nemo shirt with clear muscles, and a mixture of green and blue eyes. 

_Seagreen eyes_

My heart stopped and I felt a chill crawl up my spine as his eyes widened precariously.

"Percy fucking Jackson." I whispered before the knot in my throat increased the banging pressure in my head. And my vision blurred with the shadows ultimately taking over the panicked motion of the Son of Poseidon.

* * *

I woke up to the bright rays of sunshine, twisted and turned until I was more comfortable and was amidst darkness where no sunlight could brighten my vision. 

Mumbling sweet serenities into the comfortable white pillow surrounded by the sounds of jeering kids, singing birds, and void of motor engines.

Sitting up, I removed the covers and hopped off what certainly wasn't my bed and looked more like a cheap hospital bed.

_ Great, not at home, and definitely nowhere near the bustling life of New York. _

I took note of my surrounding, the building seemed as if it was made of wood, a contrast to the concrete and plastered walls of modern buildings. There was a row of beds from one corner of the wall to the other. Overall, It seemed like a pretty cheap building with herbs, and alchemy related decorations. I presume I was housed by a wandering palm-reader while I was asleep. Which, in fact, does not sound any good.

But that was seconds before I remembered the snarling, drooling, mammoth-sized beast.

And Percy fucking Jackson.

I sat back down on the bed,  _ The Infirmary,  _ my mind provided. High likelihood that I was A) Abandoned at the nearest person’s doorstep, who so happened to own herb mixing materials, the white, blinding design of a hospital, and the ever recognizable smell of antiseptics. Or B) I’m in the Camp Half-Blood infirmary where demigods reside in because of the existent bouts of danger that seem to appear on every corner. Like, for example, a  _ fucking bloodhound. _

At the rhythmic sound of the clip-clop, my will to take everything in stride died an early death, and I laid back down, pulled the covers over my head, and wished for the best.

The sound of a door creaking open made me tense and I forcefully made my body lax and melt into the bed. The pattering neared closer every second and stopped at the foot of my bed. I kept my silence for the following seconds because  _ fuck this guy. I’m not going to wake to this supposedly-fictional nightmare. _

A notable cough broke the silence. 

My fists clenched over the blanket.  _ Fuck this half-man half-horse, piece of shit. He shits standing for fuck’s sake. _

_ Fuck the gods while I’m at it. _

Another notable cough. “I know you are awake, and I promise I will do you no harm, I understand you must be afraid.”

The voice was deep and aged, for lack of better description. The rapid beating of my heartbeat gave me away of course, and that discludes the heavy, panicked breathing.

_ There is only one reason why I am laying, right here, right now, within the camp boundaries.  _

_ And that is because I am a demigod. _

My eyes stung, and my stomach felt heavy with emotions, my body was trembling in fear. And dear god I hated everything. I was reincarnated, and not only  _ not  _ in my previous life’s hometown. But in a completely different  _ world.  _

I want to cry, but I can’t because that stupid old geezer centaur is still here, listening to my hitched breathing.

I hate everything, and I hated this new life. I threw the covers off abruptly, and the hate was spreading through my veins like a cold fire.

And I closed my eyes, my brows furrowed, and sitting up, facing the source of the voice. My breathing breaking the  _ pitying  _ silence. “I don’t care who the hell you are, but where the fuck am I.” I can’t be motivated by any other emotion but hatred right now, because in this world, and with my blood. I’ve been born into a world of life and death.

The gods don’t deserve to feel so self-righteous when I’m going to die because of their stupidity.

Fuck the gods, I’m the uncontrolled variable in this story.

**Author's Note:**

> In the end, I didn't complete this within 20 min. I turned in my assignment on time luckily, uh what else.  
> I don't know, but I guess this is going on Late Night Bullshittery Collections. (I don't know how to do the Collections, so nevermind.)
> 
> Yay.
> 
> Thanks for reading too, I hope it wasn't a waste of your time, and if it was, well, you can't really get that wasted time back so eh.
> 
> ALSO, I'm so sorry for the horrible, grammar, writing structure, expressive styles, etc. I promise I'll get better along the way, this is also a two-birds-with-one-stone type of thing because I want to better my writing style. I'll try to keep to the first perspective, but I apologize for any current or future mistakes to be made.
> 
> Criticism is highly appreciated!!
> 
> Ps; Don't procrastinate on homework, trust me, it gets worse if you do.


End file.
